Women are afraid of love
Because it is like
A knife twisting in your abdomen
Deep inside

And they cannot handle
The anguish of seeing men
Under such pain
For the love they cannot give

Since, you've been gone
The lotus flowers have flown
The rivers are ceaselessly flowing
But, the trees have no roots and cannot rustle in harmony
Mama, the land was ours

Since, I left our God-given farmland
The skies have turned grey
The heavens are heavy with rain
Both of us knew laughter
We only see a faint memory of it, today

Mama, the land was once ours
Will the rivers keep flowing in ravines
If you and I
Leave the withering wheat fields
To be washed away by the rain and broken streams
That hunger and dry sand has left behind

It takes more than money and friendship to tame our beloved country

When you're sad or upset
And the world seems to be against you
Think of yourself first
Remember that you are better than you think you are

If you are down and reeling in the pain
And nobody seems to care
Think of those who do
Remember you mean much more to them than you do to you

When a kid
Hoping for the height to touch the clouds
When a teenager
Hoping for just the sun's warmth amidst crowds
When an adult
Hoping for time at home makes your family proud
When an old venerable person
You realize you are
Too old to touch clouds
Until knowledge tells you that that desire lies in foggy mornings
Too old to look for sunshine
Until experience tells you there is nothing more beautiful than the sunset
Too old to keep your family intact
Until wisdom tells you each person goes their own way
When in death
Hoping to reach Heaven laying behind some star
In space, away from this Earthen abode

If not for death
Life wouldn't come from within
To leave the soul
For something different

Kids who get bullied in the alley
In school and kicked out of college
Try making it to a league of good writers
As they learn how to punch the keys and I just bleed on paper
Also, letting out the anger
My dad never drank or smoked
But, he loved me a lot
Maybe, I was a bad kid who never loved anyone before
Because I never was treated well in school
One fine day, I stayed after school
Losing to my friends in a fist-fight
After a few years, I got into psychedelics and misfortune
Kept reading in the meantime
Barely processing all those drugs
Let alone the literature
Soon, I started a career as an underrated writer
Influenced by Hell and it's angels
Talking to myself, and making clouds of thoughts in my head
I thought I wouldn't be the only angel head who would become a poet in this day-and-age of hippies and world leaders
So, I wanted to be an author as I kept writing out my epitaph while figuring out nothing
Quite like India without the politics
I never liked mixing the two
It should just be country and God
I always believed God gave me my folks
I gave myself my life and my mess.

I'm howling under the little tree
Becoming quiet, becoming a pole
Lank, hankering on the ransacked goals stealing the sleep from, meaningful free prose with the simple words that stole my sleep, I want your hand
Don't you wanna dance in the dark
Butchering Sundance, in the kid of the friable apartment
Apartment 145-146, today's last cries on the radio on Central park songs
That's alright to turn the radio and explain the positively rhapsodic living sphinx riddle, be killed by it or understand it
Across midnight skies, and shirk the sins, and scream with the pursuit of desires in Tangiermen
Burning with Illmatic fire on the sunflower beads with sultry kisses on the nape of your neck
For happiness, I live in a time where we are quixotic
Blind with angel hippie looking for Alhambra, to ruin their with happiness, with mindful language burning in the circles of hell reigning with boundaries of paradoxical paradise lost
Some of us are a locked stocked barrel gun in machine tombs Barros creating sorrows, likeness to a warm run on Spain
An open book within without a son is like a train journey, it stays like a good friend in the Blake Light of burning Solaris
We were on the run on, Goldman Train running the errands like a kid waiting for the gold rush on the cast across acrobat, back and forth should I sat or should I go like the ultimate punk
Counting the stars just like you, easing ego in the poetry losing myself in strains of woes in a parceled nosegay which time clutched from Empyrean isles
Ginsberg meeting Walt Whitman in the supermarket sharing the list of cultured vegetables in Elysian isles, California in the catcher of eye fields
It's all coming together.

I playing with
The idea
Of summer flings, before I knew a chick called
Destiny came along in the scenic winters, caressing the winds
My handles, and grips along the moonlit oceans
Tempered with anticipation, and precipitated with great
Transparency, I hope we find the same rock bottom
Or pulsate across the isthmus, undulating avidly under the
Shadows, across the reigning tides
Shadows, across the behind of the boats
Beckoning, to call you, 'gain in on this shadow
And a hand full of sand, and a head full of doubts
Like intelligent people full of doubts, and stupid people unknowing
I feel we might be on the right path or hope for love
Breathless, about our loveless lives, hearts take us for lightweights
This is the love-life of a feather-weight, caressing the winds...

The townspeople
They prayed for the
man to come off the steeple
He came down
But couldn't make pope

The rain brings back clear memories in clear waters
Or in the form of massive storms that power through
Sometime when the rain's gone and we need no shelter
I'd be with you

There's too much rain now and grey clouds
I keep reminiscing the words spoken and the silent vow
There won't be a tomorrow and a sun on the horizon
But there will be hearts broken and the sun will come out

That's the truth

I'm stuck in an education
If I am am I an institute in self-conservation
Conserving my thoughts and energy for the meditating heralding change in the drop sleeves of doing something better with plants
In the autumn, knowing of the seasons and the hurling flings that throw Fred's problems at and Harry hurt ya'
Rolling up the sleeves, with the punches doing something better for a change than fighting the little wings
Gaining ambiguity, ambition in this from the little wing, and redacting resting war pieces, once again in a dark alley away
Sold out by the Ganges, we are at the back alley once again
Where it used to flood in the underwhelming light of the free talking, and are we really doing this praying in the freakish dark
If you want to **** yourself in film-noir, then, do it wicking light, flickering cigarette and luminescent wickedness and gumption in grumpy faces, Eliot Ness
Shot the mess down, in the pool of blood
Shot the mess in, down in the pool
Everywhere, everyone was trying to make sense of the unfurling crew crawling through strange crew
Cash rules everyone around messenger of peace, mirages of the sage temerity of the herald of emerald Gerald Ford tides, shortest eyebrows in the quickest drugs for the lasting merging
Of mussing and sullied feelings, where the cars roam
Thouest shiny car, where do you remember to reach India, the houseplants wait for your arrival, blind in love

Closed stores
And broken shelves
There's a stench
Of lustrous leafen pages
Biblichor
I guess it's just me
Reading Sherlock Holmes

The flow of the water is harsh
When it gains speed
It's soft when it's stagnant on marsh
It's changed when the trees are burning as we speak
But, the water might drown us out and so will our mistakes
So, I'm precarious about cynicism
About time I find the right piece of me
In these broken places
Where there schisms and facsimiles of the same problems
My responsibilities are resonant with their yeses
But, my passions keep telling me to change-up
My pursuit is somewhere in between this mess

A sheep herd burned in the road, monotonous sibilant calls
House in the dirt, coal eyes felt no pain with the fire of inner visions
He shrieked in descending flames, yelling in his religious abode
Crowned boldly without reprieve for his drunken soul
God, why have you forsaken me
Ad lama sabachtani crying on Everest megalithic of lithe souls burning
Have you got a moment to hear a match-lit forlorn rag, these words burn me in my throat
In the form of quasi-knowledge, I can still hear the shrieks of madness
Moloch, Moloch, Moloch and neon traffic lights shine across the square
I'm at the crossroads of my winding life searching for truth
Speaking about conformism while understanding the crushing penury
Leek, green grass, that's all these sheep can eat
The foggy scene killing my joy frescoed in her mind without wheatish flax seed
There were no seeds to sow, the land was fertile and we could sit for another folly time in this sold-out show
Watch the thunder die with the snow as the student takes Thunderdome

Is there a right or wrong
Being on the phone
Start with the front
I got the white breath
I am dragon
A flow my anger
THeir's the heat and rile
Of the toil in the Earth soil
Of the old beans
And the land of where Pharaoh died
Is it the Sphinx
Or the answer to the rebellion of questionable reason
Moreover heavy in the afternoon
Look after my old baby mama
It's my mountain dog
I got one from my old hub in the neighborhood
It needed to be freed
But I fed it some truth about the world
With food, you can make this world your chartered journey
Without food, you don't' have the nostalgia that grows in
A speech that is driven by frenzy and the haze of voiced of jaded
There's no more stealing and imprisonment in a veritable diplomat
And his direction of lobbying his guarantee of studying the prudence of the land
Does our President gain is it a try or a way to fight crime
Summoning sycophantic souls and bringing freedom
There's some earnestness in wanting peace
Or freedom on the streetlights of smoky place where I had a neighborhood
Gonna go sleep and the world ain't so dangerous
Burned down the ghetto run over by the loose crime]
And the faces and thraces
Stationery prisons thickening the chains
Stagnating breath can't carry the chains of crime and punishment
Billowing the president's tenor that is getting thinner in the world
Do we have a prudent man in our society that isn't suffering
But the role's clear, pressing matters are there among us

I
Need
Some
Timely
Attention
Gently
Rising
As
Mass media

Trees grow vibrantly
Tied by the roots
I had an autograph
That was signed with
Your name and address
Standing right next to you
In my picture of a thousand words

****** madness
Engendering doubt
Mellifluously kept me within these walls of belief
Too bad, religion was old
And the girl was young
The memory was transience

The broken soul is rough around the edges
The broken mind is chained to the past
But, a broken heart is the worst
It avoids the future out of fear

But, how can one truly be happy
Without taking a risk
Or leaping without a safety net
Then, we have to be content with what we have

A broken heart, a broken soul, a broken mind makes a person bold enough
They at least tried

If you could see
How well I remember you
I would stop writing lyrically

Some days on a summer turf
I remind myself that the leaves
Will blow into effervescence as a sudden freeze
As flowers do under the grey sky of winter

Bushes will rustle in the wind
The heat will turn into sorrow and sadness
As the rain pours and pours into a drenched blemish
Like there is no tomorrow for us to furnish our existence on

Like an Indian river that flows
Till there is an end to freedom
Waiting for God to conquer it, everyday
As it tows the sand and rests in the bay

I kept looking for you in the people, helplessly
Hoping this clear night could have just a little less empty
Life had other plans set aside for you and me
I dreamed of having kids and something more for free

I'm selling souls by the quick dime for a moment of paradise
You're selling prescriptions for people in a convincing disguise
Trying to pay for my vices, I'm not the only one
Can you picture this and I've got it all done

Mondays were the best days
Tuesdays and Wednesdays passed away in the worst way
We could spend Thursday night, instead we'd lose sight of Sunday
I wonder how we even made it this far into the night

Those colored dreams turned into nightmares
And troubled time conjured up more pain, hopelessly ensnared
I wish I could brought it in with my hard-earned pay
To the table, but we spent it on cheap stuff anyway

I wonder how you're gonna resist this
If I leave, you won't even follow me
To the depths of hell, can you picture this
Now we need a fix for this oxygen crisis
In a quarantine that has got us all feeling useless

I'm riding the quick cars, and rising tides
Im writing songs that thoughts cannot keep
So I bid adieu to these feelings

I wonder why he has a smoke
I wonder why he has a beer
I wonder why he has been intoxicated, once before
When life is not innocuous at all
I wish that she took those things off my mind
And let me relieve the guilt and reprieve myself
When life is always teaching me through dilemmas
After I make all of the mistakes I learned from western cinema

Is like having mushrooms
Instead of eating them
You get high
Going all the way in the bedroom

I'm talking fuzzy in a freight train of thought
I'm in the hood holders and boxcars, some of them keep passes
I'm locuting about the things we were, within the neighborhood
Part of these merry conversations, I look at my ears
From outside, I might be drunk
Not yet, as long as it's nighttime and nightcap time
The next day waits for me to leave life in the tide of indelible relief
My legacy in a catchphrase mucous membrane of delightful freedom
Crap and fuliginous Fugazi's, a part of belonging to the real things
I wondered a bit in vain and people lurk across the legacy steel
Tumescent buildings towering the moon, ebbing against the Sun and red herring crossed the desert

We had our time under the moon
Our light was spent in the spotlight
Soon we would live like fools
Enamored by the color red and its sight

Like a caged bird, I yelled for her
Let me out for I need you to see
She didn't want to hear me much longer
She didn't want to let me out to quickly

It pumps red blood and feels
While it flew, it felt the rush of being free
This is the truth behind her love for the sky
Set her free, she too is a bird that is free

I was captured by her
While she was free to fly through myriad skies
Like a fish swimming in the seas that belongs there
I was caged in her presence, choked by her light

She had brought out an obsession in me
I asked her have you read this or that
We shared interests by the dozen really
But it wasn't enough for us to get back

I'm possessed by the love I need
While others find their cold comforts in a one way street
Belief tells me to write poetry and find the right one
The right one will fly as I wait on the autumn trees

As the winter rain came
The flowers came to life
Surrounded by the chatter of leaves
Upon which droplets fell and slid

The beauty that existed all around
Present in every waking moment
Faded into the warm spring of my life
That changed me as a person

I found the littlest things
That brought me joy in the coldest times
Breathing life into when I hoped
With a broken heart

I think this what finding love is like
You go through every passing day
Clinging to the smaller pleasures
Letting them fill you

Until happiness comes easily
Sadness becomes a distant memory

I work I talk about the stomach type short coffee good true what do you live for polish firefly oh myne erde imagine to divide It is me who makes the difference the most painful of those days borjelicke hearty train i feel i a lot of work was done in one hundred and sixyears speaks Finnish, not English this spring Tate finnish to Persian myeh meillety dude the heels Imagine a coffee taste a fuzzy evil huffy teacher devil, your war does not bite the brazilian flag no kid Venezuela rays off the light most suggestive of the day's different psychology

In a forest of blue lakes and green shrubs
Finding a rose is simple
And we don't mind getting stung by a bee
Such is the beauty of an ecosystem that has little lilies

If you like flowers, you will love the green leaves
On the trees that are in ample amounts
As long as you don't mind getting kicked by a deer
Such is the magnificence of the rainforest

Imagine that forest offered flowers for your hair
Would you mind if she cried once in a while
As long as you don't have to wipe her tears, right?
Such is the innocence of human nature, let us appreciate it

He took the bomb
To the Jack and Jill hill
The mountain took him downstream
Can we set fire to the rain
Asked the guy who kissed the sky
Leading the ballots of bucket lists
We coul care less and fill the bucket a little less

We took back the bomb and their minds had changed when they reached rock bottom
Rocking the avalanche it's coked hearts and blanched looks

The purple sweater
Caressing her
Ribs and caged heart

Feet
On the blue waters
Of shared bleak winters
Redness
Of cheeks
All of the colors
Of the wind
Stopped by the
Purple turtleneck
Sweater

You could run from the past
Or face it
Or hide from it
In the future

We MET YOU LONG BACK
we came on the same grounds
Looking for a flair
That glassed my ice cake
******* surprise, keep the cherries in the cherubs
bush takes
Away  the difference
We came for hoes to just line silver

At this present date, here and now
Setting the predicate for the future and the past
Steeples, beyond silhouette, said the townsmen, that trampled
The stairs lit up with freedom, and poetry of the old times
The positivity lit at the end of the flame tells positivity is superlative
The panorama was on fire, the apparitions of faces lifeless by their beauty
Domineering in their face, and the color of the water was bluer than boughs of the mountains
I guess some men are giants, and some are succeeding to stay tall
And keep their heads help up high, maybe, praying as they leave for paradise
Loveless and ingrates find their place in heaven
Some are lost and faithless finding their place in paradise or somewhere in that vivid concept
Keeping the literature relevant, has become one of the reasons why we understand the depth of joy
Stories should be efficiently, and they could see a hint of fur
Heard in the faces of silent persons, they could see it mindful of the suspense
What's to say and what's coming
The common saying, we could perhaps smile, or look for better
Possibly, I am migrated from the lies behind
My shelled spectacles wearing the running on the wires, on my arms
Determination in these, grams of wrath winding in surreptitious
Some people think will can worthless incoherently they can claim their futures for their own and hopeless misery
Among the citizens and gun-holes, the action-seekers snickering
I want to be part of a smaller death in society, terrorizing my neighborhood
Silently, breaking the breadths of fences and pens, into the ****** sheets of spying intelligent and honest men
I hoped to leave this island
I would get engrossed in the similarities
Snow sets upon
Lamenting our souls
In the fire, or huddled up in the avalanche again

What have I heard in July
It is a month and the rain still pours like crazy
I know I will tumble into the grey mud
Like a rolling stone that aims too high

Rock into dust, dust into wind lot like a lazy sun
Comets turn into stardust, dragonflies lose their wings
There are steady grasshoppers on the path to redemption
As I am letting out my frustration and anger

Like whirling into a vortex of wrath and presentation
Thunders will roll into thunder
Boxcars, boxcars and boxcars will flood the snowy streets
I have will have no possessions, all drenched in a sad life

Just my life, the sun shines on me
The moon has always been the backbone
I wander and search for the stars on the famous skies
Looked at by commoners and burning in iciness

The probabilities
He pessimistically took my jar, left me ajar
The attentive class left us with a decent professor
Often, hiding in books, and avoiding the seasons
My heart is an apocalypse, that tells me that Hell is where I am
Thre prodigious repleting the accidental lake, the isle on the Sun
The cloudy stars, and counting of the shooting stars
And the quills bloodied by the changing trapdoor, lurking behind
The gallows pole and the halo's gone, and the named nameless
Reinventing required him to be universally concomitant
When few people have imagination, really
And relativity of the realistic destiny, and the self-conscious of distasteful poetry
You can dream and you have begun, but, boldness has the imagination befuddled
Often the will left to the imagination can cultivate a passion
And your pursuits and your perception of me might leave with the reposing soul
The deposition of which is my lover's ordeal and steadfast strength
Low on pursuits, and mild on perceiving the highs and lows

Read your eyes
Haven’t learned how to remember
Your glance of artful proportions, dearthly looking after me

Forgive my glance in the east
The sun rises in the north when I’m on the west of east
Everything’s gone south, I should be back at home looking at the pole star from the south
I am back at the eastern seaside, running coast to coast

Liven joy as if it isn’t
As of now the joy is real
Looking for it some in an ounce of vivacious motherhood
That ******* left the phone
Coffee in the train, tea out of the surfboard returning on bossa nova
Born in the art noveau made a black magic woman, out of heads
Beads in the ruthless response, like the sensory second made of stern stuff
Kick me in the ground, the wars in the battleground, kick me into the sentoryou
I want out now, I’ll be determined now
Sorry papa

I have seen your gloomy eyes
They notice the stars in the skies
But, they float on the dark circles under them

When I ignore that barren ocean
Of your empty eyes
That reflects a heart full of emotion

I see you have traveled lands far and wide
Only to find someone who isn’t as starved
Of light

Ironically, every guy I go out with
Represents him
Unfortunately, poetry doesn't flow in that irony

If I know it is love
They hide under my bed

Until the end of time, I want you asleep

They hide under my bed
Why would I **** anyone, if I hate waking up
I want to **** those souls
Who are lost love in the foggy dust where starshine
Them monsters hide in my darkness
Cometh the dark of ephemeral gaze
Knowledge, cometh hath endless will
They hide under my bed

I want to **** them, with an arm that holds gold
But, doesn't lose the riches to ones who slave
With open arms, they held me in lads of maggie's farm
When the arms shut, the part of books was lost where we were
I wish we were younger

Love is as it merits
With open daydreams, I need you ready for the hostel
When the arms dry, the water gushes through valleys as gelid ice T
The fearful night that
I want your understanding, not your patience
Write your heart on parchment, and gray days left the blue skies
In the fair lovely heather, feather, come hither and gather
Lift my soul, and my soul is hopeful
That someday that you will be my real name, God
God, I don't know if I know love or this earth

Hope is a dangerous thing
Dangerous minds need true faces and true crime
Present, here and now, here and jaguar
I love your soul, I love you maybe
If I know what free will is, take my heart on the urn
Turn my soul into ashen dust, fear my hands of gray dry dusk
With laconic faces, and pure hearts
When I left you I left with dreams
When I left you I left with dreamy people
When I left you I left with my greater gin

You taught me how drink
I used to drink water
And now I drink lassoes in the skies

You teach me how to fall into puddles of love
Caged and a page from my book, here and there is now
Pray tell me, what is happening to you daughter
Do you have a prodigal son?

You taught me how to drink wails
You taught me how to look into the sea
Of lost soul? In a farewell for twisted souls
Please keep me home, or keep me safe from tomes
Please keep us together when we are part of the lads that fight for madness
As the center pop, the stages stars into
Realized crowded women, and unrealized men
Who watch the movie for the lanes.

Love is a beautiful thing
Understanding is brilliant feeling
Indeed
Loving and understanding a woman
Is a thing of feeling

The broken chromebird flew on 52nd
The solar kings and lunar queens played on the kingdom of heaven
My reign ended when I lost the clouds
As I stared into an abyss of forever whilst looking for summer

Like a woman in the storm
Wilting in the mossy lakes
Streams of tears stop suddenly
Wishing tumultuous flowers
Following her mother to her grave
I hope the river flows in her
Indolent, sloth, languorous lapping
Rivers left this sea, shoring against the tides
Of shapeless water crashing against razor ravines
Her love stood the test of time by following the river
Drenched by the moisture of the sea
The crow wishes fallow, callow women can wash away
Tomorrow begins after today
Sorrow ends today for the wishful crow

I kept my soul
I kept telling my soul
It'll be alright
That's when my soul spoke up
And said
"Everything will be alright"
Souls are like teachers
When the student learns
About fantasy creatures
The student opens up his imagination
And says "They veritably exist."
The didact says "Of course you've seen them."
But the soul doesn't share knowledge as easily
As the body of a female
It runs on its own cognizance

Pick out your destiny, slowly
Take your pick from open for business
And chrysanthemums that dry like the yellow times
You have with the blues, the cerulean tulips can't get enough of
Watered colors in form cumulus colors, colors of a shade
The trade-off of your polyamory and amorous exchanges, ringing like hallowed bells
Bell-shaped flowers, pick and choose your tune among the red wine-like roses
The truthful rose, in vino veritas, let me fetch another one of my flowers
In gazebo's that blossoms like composure and human nature, colored like roses, blue like a violet
Heralding the wine and decomposed soil, germinating to fructify
Tributes to your loved ones, time grows older than the powers of the words
Late-bloomers change your eternity in a palm-full of beauty
The eternity in a wildflower of the heated hours, the high life
The groups of the mirrored of the jaded transience, make it mystical as time
Lives will die with the shelves that contain stick and chains, like women
Trips and camp tents tested in the terms of the trident of Cyprus trees

It's a lumberjack, a lake of logs brushing up their boats
The elated minutes of meandering open poetry, open up  
Seeds like blocks, locks of stems

Coffee in my innermost thoughts
Keeping me awake
At night
In the sleeping recesses of my mind